


Happy Birthday, Tony!

by juniperhoot



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Donuts, Fluff, Happy Birthday Tony Stark, M/M, Schmoop, Stony - Freeform, Tony Stark birthday, references to balls and holes but mostly of the donut variety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 14:58:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11038530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juniperhoot/pseuds/juniperhoot
Summary: "I'm just saying... maybe a big party is too much. Forty-seven isn’t a milestone year. Nobody makes a big deal out of forty-seven."Challenge accepted.





	Happy Birthday, Tony!

**Author's Note:**

> Took a short break from editing another work, to crank out a quick, sappy ficlet for Tony Stark's 47th birthday. Happy birthday, Tony!

“Hey, sleepyhead.” There was no response, other than some unintelligible mumbling. Steve waited a minute, then tried again. “Tony. Hey. You gonna sleep the whole day away?”

Barely lifting his eyelids, Tony sneaked a peek at his beloved’s too-cheery, smiling face. “Awfully judgy, considering you’re still in bed, too.”

“That’s because I wanted to be here when you woke up, to be the first to wish you a happy birthday.”

“C’mere and wish me a happy birthday, then.” Tony hooked a leg over Steve’s hip, tugging him closer for a smooch. He just wanted a few more minutes. Maybe an hour. “What if I just want to stay in bed today?”

“You’re not coming down with something, are you?” Furrowing his brow, Steve touched the back of his hand to Tony’s forehead. 

“No, no, it’s nothing like that.” Offering a fleeting attempt at a reassuring smile, Tony clasped Steve’s hand. “I’m just saying… maybe a big party is too much. Forty-seven isn’t a milestone year. Nobody makes a big deal out of forty-seven. Besides, I have everything I want right here. Except maybe a donut.”

“Donuts. Of course. I should have thought of that. I’ve already failed in my birthday preparations for you.”

“It’s okay. Maybe there’s a donut delivery service. No, don’t look it up right now. I just want to look at you for a few minutes and go back to sleep. We can deal with the donut situation later.”

They lay there, smiling the sort of dreamy smiles that tend to occupy lovers’ faces in the early morning hours. Tony made a mental note that this might be his favorite look on Steve. He knew even as he made it, he would likely amend the note later, to document Steve’s given look of the moment as his absolute favorite of all time. Either way, he was deeply happy, and content to bask in the vision of wholesome(ish) beauty before him. Tony allowed his eyes to close. He was on the edge of drifting back to sleep when Steve spoke up again. 

“You weren’t serious about not wanting a party, were you? It’s nothing big, but I did ask some of our friends over later.”

Sighing, Tony opened one eye to survey Steve’s anxious expression. “When you say friends, are you including Barton in that?” 

“Tony.”

“Kidding, I’m just kidding. He’s a great guy...” Tony squeezed Steve’s hand. “...for a nincompoop.”

“You are terrible.”

“I know. But you love me.”

“I do.” Steve pressed a kiss to Tony’s forehead, draping an arm over him. If Tony wanted to sleep a little longer, that was alright. It was his birthday, after all.

**********

Waking up the second time, the first thing Tony noticed was the smell of coffee. That, and the unacceptable lack of a Steve beside him.

“Where’s my handsome man?”

From the hall, Steve responded, “On my way. I thought you were still sleeping.”

“I was. But now I’m not.” Tony sat up and ran a hand through his hair, probably making it worse. On the dresser, there was an enormous vase of red roses. He was pretty sure that wasn't there before. He smiled as Steve appeared with a tray full of food.

“Happy birthday! I made breakfast.” 

He handed the tray to Tony and left. Beside the large mug of coffee were two plates. On one, a pair of perfectly fried eggs over easy and a pile of hash browns. On the other, five strips of bacon laid out to form a number four and a number seven. There was a small envelope with a florist’s card tucked inside.

_“You’re welcome to count them (I did, twice), but that’s what 47 roses looks like. Yours always, Steve.”_

Tony chuckled and shook his head, affectionately murmuring, “Old man, you are ridiculous.”

When Steve returned from the kitchen, he was carrying another tray, and a stack of pink bakery boxes. He had an absurdly pleased look on his face.

Tony took a sip of coffee, then gestured at the boxes with his mug in hand, narrowly avoiding slopping hot coffee on himself. “What’s all this?”

“You wanted donuts.”

“Yes, but there must be dozens--”

“Four dozen. Minus one.” There was that dopey, self-satisfied look again. Steve was enjoying the hell out of this.

Tony could do nothing but blink. He looked at the boxes, now arrayed at the foot of the bed, and watched as Steve opened them to reveal the contents. _Yes, that looks like forty-seven donuts, alright._

“I can’t possibly eat all of these. Not even with your considerable help.”

“That’s not the point.”

“What exactly is the point?”

“ _Making a big deal of forty-seven._ I know it’s not a nice, round number, but it’s forty-seven years of _you_. I think that’s worth celebrating.” As he handed Tony one of the cake donuts with icing and sprinkles, Steve pressed a kiss to his adorably mussed hair. “Besides, we have people coming over later. They’ll eat the leftovers. Be right back.”

A moment later, he reappeared with an enormous bouquet of balloons, and another pink box. He handed off the balloons with a quiet, “Someone got a little carried away and ordered forty-seven balloons for you.” Opening the final pink box revealed a mountain of donut holes. 

“Forty-seven, I presume.” Unable to stop grinning, Tony asked, “What did you do, order four dozen and eat one?”

“It was cheaper that way, yeah. No sense paying more for fewer balls.”

“Holes, Steve. As I’ve told you many times, they call them donut holes.”

“Either way, I like them.” For emphasis, Steve plucked a donut hole out of the box and kissed it, then tossed it in his mouth. “Mmm.”

Tony squinted at him. “You only got those so you could eat balls in front of me.”

Nodding, Steve climbed back in bed, kissing Tony’s cheek as he settled in for breakfast. “You see right through me. You really are a genius, aren’t you?”

“Mm-hmm.” Munching contentedly at his donut, Tony rested his head on Steve’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Tone. Happy birthday.”


End file.
